


Walk Away

by hetzi_clutch



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Gen, idk just a little Drabble about redemption and forgiveness I guess, references to death, thasmin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2020-01-15 11:44:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18498283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hetzi_clutch/pseuds/hetzi_clutch
Summary: It’s still her duty, even when it’s hard.Answer to the fanzine prompt, ‘a duty of care’.





	Walk Away

**Author's Note:**

> From the prompt on the fanzine blog, ‘a duty of care’. Prompts are open to everybody, so you guys should definitely participate!! And if you want to learn more/get updates about the fanzine, follow us at thirteenfanzine on tumblr it Twitter. 
> 
> And in the meanwhile, enjoy!

_I have a duty of care._

She turns away anyway. She can't look at it. 

She'd never thought—

_I have a duty of care. I still do._

She doesn't want it, anymore. It's an easy promise to keep when it's all about encouraging Ryan to climb ladders, teaching Graham to navigate the tricky waters of grief. Not—not dragging someone back from what you didn't even know they were capable of in the first place.

She feels disgust rising in her chest, curling her lip, and she hates it because it’s thick and familiar and directed at somebody other than herself.

_That's not fair._

Oh, she doesn't care. Life isn't either, is it? Not that the poor guard would know, lying dead on the pavement. The Doctor hadn't even gotten a chance to talk to him. Hadn't even gotten the chance to do something clever.

Anger balls her fists, uncomfortably hot, and the whole thing is off, the whole situation is sideways because the person standing behind her is not—she can't be—

“Doctor, I'm—”

“Don't, Yaz.” She still doesn't turn around. She's not ready, yet. She has a duty of care, yes, but it gets muddled with things like these, and she's not sure this one is a case even worth picking up, anymore. 

“Just…don’t.”

“I'm sorry.” She sounds young and terrified, and the Doctor can still smell the ozone of the plasma shot hanging in the air. She hadn't even seen her grab the gun. It had been too confusing, a blurry few seconds when the guard had lunged for them—

“You should be.”

Yaz, who asked to visit Dan’s daughter, just to make sure she was okay. Yaz, who had gone to ask her Nani about that watch, and in the end decided it was right to let her tell it, in her own time. Yaz, who was kind.

_She's only human._

Oh, but the Doctor had wanted her to be _brilliant._

She whirls around suddenly, stuffs her hands in her pockets. Eyes fall to the plasma gun, still dangling from Yaz’s fingers, and revulsion twists her stomach.

“You killed a man,” she says, and jerks her chin roughly to the body. “You know what that means.”

Yaz nods, shakily. Her eyes dart to the body, wide, dazed. Her fingers wrap around the grip of the gun, as if she's only just remembered it's there, and then she abruptly lets go, and it clatters to the floor.

“I can't travel with you, anymore.”

Oh, a selfish part of the Doctor wants that very badly. To drop her off at home and wash her hands of the whole thing, write Yaz off as a bad egg. She's done the unthinkable, after all. In a moment of fear, yes, stupid, human panic, but she did it.

“No.” She sucks in a deep breath, eyes glued to the floor. “It means you have to live with it.”

“I—” Yaz jerks her head up and down again, her hands shaking at her sides. They hook on her jeans, nervously. “I know. I'm—I'm sorry, I just saw him go for you, I thought—I was—”

The Doctor really doesn't care what Yaz thought. But she knows it's her anger saying that, not her brain. Not the part of her that knows what she has to do.

“You don't have to apologize to me,” she continues, harsh because she's allowed to be, damn it. “You don't even have to apologize to him. Can't anyway, because he’s dead. You have to learn, Yaz, how you're going to not be the person you just became. Do you understand?”

“I—” Yaz stares, then swallows, and blinks away what the Doctor thinks might be a tear. “Yeah.”

Her voice is so soft as to be inaudible, and she's staring at the guard now, fixed. Then she looks up at the Doctor with scared, uncertain eyes.

“How do I—how do I do that?”

The Doctor closes her eyes, slowly, and thinks how easy anger would be. It's tempting, it really is. Betrayal is sitting heavy in her stomach, sour on her tongue. She doesn't want to do this.

But she has a duty of care.

“Don't worry,” she says, and looks Yaz in the eye. “I'll help you.”


End file.
